


long, pulsing when, the

by Emilys_List



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-14
Updated: 2004-04-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilys_List/pseuds/Emilys_List
Summary: When I got over Josh, I cut my hair.





	long, pulsing when, the

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**the long, pulsing when**

**by:** emily’s list

**Pairing(s):** josh/donna  
**Category(s):** romance.  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Disclaimer:** i do not own these characters. however, i do own the angsty emotions that i am forcing them to feel :)  
**Spoiler:** (just to be safe) ItSoTG, commencement, twenty-five, season five up to disaster relief  
**Summary:** I wish I could tell her that I’ll stay away from him. That I will back out gracefully, and she can have him all to herself. But the reality is that this isn’t some television show.  
**Author's Note:** i was supposed to be writing a paper, and this DAMN FIC kept interrupting me. it’s sort of angsty  & brutal. let me know how it went: emilieh@eden.rutgers.edu 

When I got over Josh, I cut my hair. 

And I started wearing more eye make up. 

And I didn’t care that he slept with Amy. 

I was there for him when his job was in jeopardy -- emotionally available but not TOO available. 

When I got over Josh, I went shopping and bought clothes that were on the verge of being inappropriate for the White House. I also bought clothes that were just inappropriate. Period. 

And I made time to wear them, and I made time to see friends, and I spent less time at his beck and call. 

I tried to spend less time at his beck and call. 

I quietly dated WASPy men with blonde hair and names like Tom and Steven. Because I was over Josh, I didn’t feel the need to forfeit my love life over to his jealous whims. 

I think there were many times when I gladly surrendered to his jokes and his possessive nature. It made me feel desired. I let myself fall into a high school fantasy where boys fought to gain my love and attention. 

But then I grew up. 

When Zoey... when Zoey was kidnapped, I think I lost a piece of my idealism. It’s hard to hold on to something like that, when you do what I do, but I worked hard on it. Because I believed in doing the right thing, and I believed in consequences and equality and... love. 

As terrible and sappy as it may seem, I believed in love. 

When Zoey was returned, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, I found myself feeling like a part of me had wilted. I went home and took a bath and cried. 

I dried off, put on my robe, and made myself hot chocolate, ignoring the fact that summer had hotly descended on D.C. I laid on my couch and watched a DVD, because every channel was carrying coverage of Zoey’s return. 

I watched Sleepless in Seattle, but the images didn’t really register. It didn’t make sense. Zoey being taken. The President. The Twenty-fifth. The acting President. Zoey’s return. It all seemed like some surreal dream. 

And I couldn’t help but think: Who’s next? Will CJ have another stalker, will Charlie’s letters begin to increase in violence again, will... 

What’s to stop someone from trying to succeed where the shooters in Rosslyn failed? 

His heart. 

She asked if I was in love with him, but that’s not the right question. I’m not even sure I know the right question, but I know what the answer would be. 

His heart is linked to my heart with a long, pulsing cord that keeps us together. I used to think that cord was indestructible. 

But what if I’m wrong? 

I’ve almost lost him a couple of times; these times can be marked by hospital visits. I’m not entirely sure that I’m up for losing him for real. He’s too integral to who I am, and that’s a scary thought. His heart is tied to me, but what if it gives out? 

Then what. 

I understand there’s the possibility of loss in any situation. Yet I don’t know if I could lose him. Would we stay connected, and, would I be lost too? 

I watched Meg Ryan say hello to a teddy bear. My impulse was to call Josh and make sure he was okay, but I stopped myself. I watched the remaining minute of the movie before I paused it. 

I got off the couch, and puttered. I walked around my living room and dining room towards my bedroom. I looked the mirror of my bathroom and I peered inside my linen closet. 

I settled down in my kitchen, and looked at my refrigerator. A picture of Sam and I. 

We would make a cute couple. If his sexuality wasn’t... questionable. 

There are no visible pictures of Josh in my apartment. I never really thought about it before, but I don’t want to get into what that particular avoidance might mean. There are no visible pictures, but there is a small, plain box that is labeled JOSH. 

He opened the box once and spent an hour pouring over photographs. He would just stare at a picture for five minutes, and look to me, and then look back to the photo. And then he’d go to the next one, and the next one. 

When I got over Josh, I threw the box away. 

Save for one. 

It’s not even a picture of Josh and I, per se. It was taken at the second Inauguration. A White House photographer took this beautiful picture of the President and Dr. Bartlet. Josh and I are dancing in the background, his hand placed on the small of my back. I’m looking away, laughing at something that was probably humorous at the time. Josh is staring at me. 

A week after Inauguration, the assistant to the Director of White House Photography sent it to me. I showed it to Josh, who stared at it for a moment. He got this soft look in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he smiled as he went back to reading a position paper. Before I left his office, he said my name. And gave me a look that was pained and in love. 

I got over Josh when I realized that we couldn’t need each other like this. I have learned to love being needed, and I revel in the fact that he needs me more than anyone else. But that isn’t a relationship. 

When I got over him, I went out and picked up a guy at a club. And he was cute and I fucked him and he looked like Josh. 

I got over Josh because I had to. 

I took a personal day and went to a spa. I left my cellphone off. 

Getting over him would save his career. 

I finally took a deep breath that had nothing to do with him. 

If I let go, if I... started to gently tear at the long, pulsing cord -- he would never notice. It’s severed now, and our hearts can go back to belonging to ourselves. 

When I got over Josh, I cut my hair and wore more make up. 

And I just let go. 

the end. 


End file.
